


A Chance To Try Again

by elrhiarhodan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bite Kink, Bondage, Breeding Kink, Complicated People In Love, D/s, Domination/submission, Eager Submission, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Loving Sex, M/M, Marking, Mate Bite, Mpreg, Political Marriage, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, UST, space empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: As cadets at the Space Academy, Arris Gyreth, an all-too-noble Alpha Prime, had regularly helped Dezko Corrick, a scrappy Omega from the Confederation, through his heats.Twenty-three years later, to end a long war, Arris Gyreth, now Lord Commander of the Imperium, demands Fleet Admiral Dezko Corrick's hand in marriage.  Dez must also explicitly declare that any offspring of the marriage will be subject to the laws of the Imperium.Dez is very confused, to say the least.





	1. What Came Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greygerbil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/gifts).



**The Academy - Two Months Before Graduation**

It's so hot. Almost too hot to breathe. But the hands on his hips, holding him still – hands of an Alpha Prime that should be cool and soothing – are even hotter. They are brands burning into his flesh and Dezko welcomes the agony as he's caught up in his heat. 

"Arris – please…" He doesn't know if he's begging his lover to stop or to continue. This should be the final cresting arc of his heat, and when Arris, the Alpha Prime who'd been helping him through the biological imperative, had told him he couldn't get it up for another day - at least - Dez had given him a huge fake dong and told him to use that instead.

"What do you want, Dez?" Arris is torturing him, riding the endless length of the strap-on between his lube-slicked buttocks without mercy. It's not just a fake dong – or even an enormous fake dong, but fake dong with grotesque protuberances that catch on the sensitive tissues. He writhes against the sheets as Arris tries to satisfy every dark urge that Dezko has ever told him about, urges that he'd been trying so hard to suppress and deny.

Dez whimpers, "More." He's going out of his mind with lust. "Stop teasing me. Please."

"Oi, but I love teasing you. Especially when you're behaving like such a fucking cockslut." Arris takes one hand off his hips and the next thing Dezko does is scream – he's spanking his hole with the dildo. Dez could come just from this, but for the tight band around his cock and balls. He loses count of how many times Arris' smacks his hole, how many times he's begged this gorgeous Alpha Prime to fuck him, how many times Arris just laughs and hits his hole a little harder.

"You're such a dirty Omega, Dezko Corrick." Dez loves and loathes when Arris double-names him. It's like Arris owns him, owns his body and his name. "How is it that my cock isn't big enough for you? That you need a giant fake dick to satisfy you? Do you want me to fuck you with it? Do you want me to shove the strap on up your ass and ride you like the slut you are? Turn you into a screaming mess and force you to clean it up?"

Dez goes into vapor lock at the filth pouring out of his lover's mouth. Arris' going to kill him before his heat is over. But it'll be a happy death, that's for certain.

_Herein lies Dezko Corrick. He died from too much Alpha cock …_

Arris pokes the fake dick right on his hole and Dez screams. But Arris doesn't penetrate him; he just keeps tormenting him, teasing him with what's to come.

"Fuck me, Arris. Shove that thing up me." Dezko's begging, babbling, he's lost his eloquence in his desperation for cock.

"Not yet, you aren't ready for this monster." Arris grinds against him – his real cock sliding against Dez' balls, the huge fake dick riding between Dezko's slick-soaked ass cheeks. "I think you need a bit more prep before I slam this into you."

Dez whines, "You already fucked me with you _real_ cock! Isn't that prep enough?" 

Arris seems way too invested in tormenting him "Not for this beast. You said you wanted to be fucked like a cheap Torwellian whore. Hard and fast."

Dezko protests and tries not to laugh because it makes him feel too much, "Excuse me, I'm anything but cheap."

"But you are insatiable and a fucking size queen." Arris' words have a breathless kind of awe. "I've never serviced an Omega who is as needy as you are. I've never fucked an Omega to the point where I can't get it up again for love or money." Arris spanks his hole with the fake dick over and over. 

Dezko shrieks and grinds back.

"You want this big fake dick to fill your hole, you're going to have to work for it. I'm not interested in really tearing you apart." Despite the harshness of their play, how deep he's followed Dez into the fog of heat-driven lust, Arris is still the perfect gentleman.

"Well, I should hope not." Dezko's seen the strap-on that Arris' using while his own cock is recovering from their last bout and he's shivering in anticipation. He'd been trying to convince Arris to fist him, but the boy isn't having that. Maybe if Arris sees how nicely Dez can take monster dick, he'll change his mind.

(Of course, knotting is out of the question. Arris is won't risk anything that will trigger even the semblance of a mate-bond – that had been clearly negotiated when Dezko had screwed up his courage and asked Arris to help him through his heat. Arris had mentioned that since he's Imperial Alpha Prime, the only way to complete the bond is a bite on the mate-gland, but Dez still won't let Arris - or anyone - knot him, just in case.)

Arris smacks his hole with the dildo again and Dez shudders and cries out. Dezko just wishes Arris would touch his cock. Or that Arris would push the fake dick into his ass, once and for all. But then Arris steps away and his overheated body instantly grows cold. "Please, please, please – I need you." Dezko sobs and tries to reach out for Arris, but his arms are bound and he can't move.

But no, it's just four long, strong fingers stretching him, prepping him, tormenting him.

This is what he needs, he needs to be filled, he needs the burn and the gentle, inexorable opening of his flesh. 

And then they pull out, leaving Dezko empty and wanting. Arris is kneeling by his face now. Dezko can smell his arousal and wishes he could suck on Arris' balls. Instead, Arris rubs that monstrous fake cock against his jaw and he opens his mouth. "Suck me."

Dez really doesn't want this – the fake cock tastes nasty, especially with his own slick on it. Arris' real cock infinitely better. But Arris' insistent and he never wants to disappoint his, so he stretches his mouth around the evil thing. He'd much rather have this in his ass but beggars can't be choosy.

He makes the effort at fellatio, but the need for penetration is too much of a distraction, and he whimpers and writhes in distress. Soon enough, Arris gets the message and pulls out of Dezko's mouth, returning to his hole to prep him some more. It's not completely satisfying, but Arris is now vigorously scissoring him, his thumb teasing the stretched ring of muscle. The fingers are good, but a cock – real or fake – would be better.

Arris slaps Dez' ass again. "God, you are such a tight fuck. You'd think with all the cock I've given you the past three days, you'd be a bit more broken in."

Arris continues to flex the four finger into his hole. "Do you think you could take my fist, Dez?"

Dezko gasps and begs, "Please." 

"You probably could, you know. I could work you open until your asshole's like a cunt and I'd shove my fist into you. Work you like a piston, stretch you open."

Dezko actually comes – not that his cock spends, but he can feel the ripples of a tight, sharp orgasm rock through him. "Oh god, oh god – please …"

"Not today, Dezko. I want to fuck you." Arris is teasing his rim, flicking sharply at the overstretched skin that Arris's still tormenting. "I think you're almost ready for my monster, aren't you, my pretty cock whore."

"I am. Please – please –please."

Arris laughs. "I said, 'almost'. Your ass needs a little touching up." Arris spanks Dezko until he's gasping and crying, until he's wrecked. The tears keep falling and Dezko feels so empty and lost and needy as his heat crests for the last time. 

"Shh, darling. It's all right." Arris is leaning over his back and Dezko shivers as fingers trace along his torso, tormenting his nipples. "I'm going to take care of you right now."

And he does. Arris gathers up the slick that's pouring out of him and then that horrible, terrible dildo is pushing at his aching hole. It's almost too big, despite all of the careful prepping, but Dezko doesn't care. He rocks back, trying to impale himself on it. And he succeeds, beautifully. He's filled and finally feels complete. 

Now, if Arris would just touch his cock… 

"No, Dezko, I'm not playing with your cock, ye dirty slut. Ye're just going to have to wait."

"Please, Arris – I need …" Dezko tries to frot against the sheets, but Arris' holding him up as he plows his ass. His cock gets no relief.

Arris is a beast as his hips whip back and forth, his fingers adding another layer of bruises on top of the ones he'd given him earlier. Arris slams into him and triggers something in Dezko – another quasi-climax – and he shudders against Arris, crying out in frustrated pleasure.

They're a tangled mess of sweat and sex; Arris is draped over Dezko's back and Dezko doesn't even care that his hands are still tied at the small of his back or that his cock feels like it's going to burst. After endless days and nights of need, he's finally replete.

That doesn't mean Dezko doesn't whine as Arris withdraws and the spunk that trails out of his hole is lovely and cool. 

So are Arris's fingers as he undoes the cuffs that bind his wrists. 

"Dezko, are you with me?" Arris pushes the mass of sweat-soaked curls off his forehead. "Are you all right?"

"Mmm…" It's too much effort to answer. 

Arris gets up and Dezko rolls onto his back, finding a lovely, cool spot on the sheets. He doesn't really care about his own orgasm any more. This floaty feeling is too perfect…

Time contracts and expands, Arris disappears, but then Arris is suddenly next to him, stroking his curls and whispering. "You are too good for me, Dezko. Too sweet and soft and perfect."

"No, I'm not. I'm a - ." Dezko thinks of six unpleasant qualities about himself but can't voice a single one of them.

Arris laughs and kisses him. It's not like the biting kisses from before. These are like feathers, flowers, the large winged insects that feast on summer-flower nectar, they are everything sweet and wonderful and Dezko just lets himself feel.

Arris gets up and returns too quickly for Dezko to complain, and he's stroking him with a warm, damp flannel, wiping away the sweat and sex juices from his skin, his teasing now gentle. Everything is so gentle. "I think it's time we focused on your pleasure."

Dezko doesn't want to move. "Mmm, I think I already had my pleasure."

Arris laughs in his ear. "Let us take care of you now."

The binding around his cock disappears, only to be replaced by hands and lips – Arris's hands and Arris' mouth. The sensation is almost too much, despite how careful they are with him. He comes, but it feels like an afterthought. 

"You are so good, Dezko. So perfect. You should rest now." Arris's rumble is soporific and Dezko doesn't try too hard to fight against the inexorable drag of sleep. 

He mutters, more to himself than to his lover, "I'm going to be a mess tomorrow, aren't I?"

Arris whispers in his ear, "Of course, Dezko. You're going to sit in class and argue and start fights over the capacity of the Kryllix interstellar engine and all you'll be able to feel is that monstrous dong in your pretty ass." 

Dezko is quietly pleased that his lover finds him so delightful. but of course he wants reassurance. "You think my ass is pretty?" That's a foolish question, considering how Arris has just spent four days fucking it.

Arris seems to sense how needy Dezko is in the aftermath of his heat, "Yes, that ass certainly is pretty, especially with all the bruises."

Satisfied at the praise, Dezko sinks back in that velvet-luxurious subspace. "Good." 

Arris pulls up the sheet and flicks off the light, curls behind him, his flaccid cock tucked between Dezko's buttocks. The bruises on his hips and ass ache in the best kind of way

There is something just so right about this. It's a pity that by the time Dezko will have his heat again, they will have graduated and gone their separate ways. Arris is a Prince of the Imperium and Dezko's a scrapper, a loyal soul of the Confederation. 

If fate is the evil bitch that Dezko has always found her to be, the next time he and Arris meet, it will be on opposing sides of a battlefield.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


	2. What Happens Now

**Twenty-Three Years Later**

"To ensure a peaceful future between the Imperium and the Confederation, the representing delegations have agreed that Fleet Admiral Dezko Corrick will be given in legal and binding marriage to Lord Commander Arris Gyreth. Any issue from this marriage will be subject to the laws of the Imperium." 

Dezko had been warned that his career in the military might end with the peace talks, that he might be forced into retirement. The Confederation had lost the war, despite everything that Dezko had tried to do with the aging fleet he'd been given; the lack of resources and modern technology had doomed his best efforts. He'd hoped that if he would be forced into retirement, he'd at least be allowed to find a quiet planet, far from the frontier, and put down some roots. Maybe find an Alpha and finally raise a family.

He hadn't expected to be given to the Imperium like some kind of war prize. 

Dezko glances across the table at his counterpart and thinks that Arris looks far too good for his age. Even the patch over one eye only increases his attractiveness and Dezko is curious how he'd lost it. He also wonders if Arris remembers him from their Academy days. The hadn't had much to do with each other academically – Arris had been strictly Command track, the lucky born thirteenth child of the Empress would be no less. Even if one could have disregarded his family connections, Arris had been the perfect officer candidate – brilliant, handsome, gregarious, the quintessential Alpha Prime - no, _Imperial Alpha Prime_. Dezko had been on the Engineering track with a secondary in Command, and had none of Arris' advantages political or social. Even his friends had described him as scrappy, a fighter, more likely to throw a punch than to let an insult pass. And there had been insults a-plenty directed at an Omega from Confederation territory.

Despite their different academic tracks, he and Arris had somehow forged a friendship of sorts, one born out of biological imperative and an odd kind of gallantry. But that had been over thirty years ago, and in the intervening decades, Dezko had finally learned to control his temper. His tongue, however, still often runs away from him.

"Do you consent to this binding?" The negotiator, a neutral third party, is looking at Dezko when she asks the question.

"Consent? As if I have a choice?" The entire Confederation delegation glares at him; if the six sets of eyeballs were laser beams, he'd be a pile of smoking ash right now. But Dezko doesn't care; after all, it had been their incompetence led to this moment.

"You always have a choice." Arris speaks, his voice low and commanding. 

"And go back to fighting an unwinnable war?" Dezko bows his head at the Imperium representatives. "My apologies – I spoke out of turn. My life is now the Imperium's. Marriage is likely a kinder alternative than death." And he should probably apologize for that, too.

"You haven't changed much, have you?" Arris smiles at him. "You still speak your mind, regardless of who's present and ready to take offense." 

Dezko shrugs. "Speak truth to power and see how discomforted it makes them." That had been the polite version of his personal motto when he'd been at the Academy.

Arris' lips twitch, as if he's trying to fight off a smile.

Dezko turns to the negotiator. "Let it be clear and stated for the record. I accept that I am being offered in marriage to the Lord Commander as part of the peace treaty with the Imperium."

"And do you accept that any offspring of your union will be subject to the laws of the Imperium?"

"What does that mean, other than the obvious? The Confederation is going to cease to exist outside of three home systems, Imperium law will govern everyone outside of those worlds."

That question engenders a bit of heated discussion between Arris and the Imperium's delegation. After a few fraught minutes, the leader of the delegation answers, "Your children with the Lord Commander will be of first blood to the Empress, and as such, will be deemed potential candidates for the Imperium's throne."

Dezko blinks and his brain short circuits, but unfortunately, that doesn't seem to put a lock on his tongue. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

The room collectively sighs, and Arris tries to smooth things over. "Don't worry, it's not as bad as it seems."

"No, it's going to be worse." Dezko has visions of Arris' siblings and their own offspring coming after his own children with knives and poisons and all manner of fratricidal intent. "I'm not having children just to watch them die."

Arris breaks rank and approaches, taking Dezko's hands. "You trusted me once, trust me now."

Caught up in the utter magnetism of Arris' gaze, the warmth of skin on skin, the physical closeness he's missed for more than two decades, Dezko nods and looks to the negotiator and says, "I consent that any children born of my union with Arris will be subject to the laws of the Imperium."

The negotiator nods. "So recorded, so witnessed."

Arris smiles, "You've just brought peace to the galaxy, Dezko Corrick. How does it feel?"

"Like I'm approaching the event horizon for the biggest black hole in the universe."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dezko is surprised by how fast things move after that. Arris makes it clear to everyone – his own delegation as well as the Confederation's – that he will be taking Dezko with him, _now_. 

What is even more surprising is how blunt and undiplomatic Arris is when he's asked to explain himself.

"I don't feel like dealing with another round of negotiations. There are members of the Confederation High Council who believe it would be better to continue fighting this war, that a pyrrhic victory is preferable to an honorable settlement. If I let Fleet Admiral Corrick return to the Confederation home world, I have my doubts that he'll be delivered alive to our wedding. Which means that the treaty we've just spent months working out will become worthless and I might as well give the order to blast all of you into oblivion."

The Confederation negotiator is greatly offended, and doesn't hesitate to point out that there are factions within the Imperium that are committed to seeing the war continue and would be delighted if the treaty fails.

Arris gives the other Alpha a level stare. "The Confederation continues to exist solely because of the Empress' patience and appreciation for all life. The Imperium could have wiped it out at any point. We still can. But the Imperium military is not subject to factional whims, but the laws that are the very foundation for the Imperium's existence."

Dezko shivers – Arris is projecting his Imperial Alpha Prime status and it takes every bit of self-control not to drop to one knee and touch his head to the floor. And apparently he has more self-control than the Confederation delegates, who do just that, even though they are all Alphas.

Arris gives everyone a contemptuous glare and holds out his hand for Dezko. "We leave now."

In a daze, Dezko takes Arris' hand and lets himself be pulled along. He doesn't say a word as Arris leads him to the waiting Imperium shuttle. But to his delight, Arris offers him the co-pilot's chair and they go through all of the system checks. Even though this shuttle might be the newest ship he's flown in a decade, the controls are built on the galactic standards for bipedal humanoids. Technically, the shuttle doesn't need a co-pilot or even a pilot for that matter, but there's something very reassuring about having a living being at the helm. Computer intelligence may surpass humans in cold, pure logic, but even after a thousand years of AI development, no one has perfected the leaps of intuition, the logic-defying connections that living intelligence can make at the speed of light.

Dezko doesn't really know what to say to Arris – until today, they hadn't seen or spoken in twenty-plus years. At their Academy graduation, Arris had approached and had wished him well, but had gotten pulled away by a security detail who had needed to escort him to the Empress. At the time, Dezko had been convinced that Arris had wanted to tell him something important, that he'd been about to up-end the entire universe, but nothing had come of it. Dezko had his obligations to the Confederation, and two years after that, the Confederation had embarked on an endless, pointless, wasteful war with the Imperium. Disaster after disaster had thinned the ranks of Confederation command officers, and while Dezko had enjoyed the challenges, he'd often wished that his climb through the ranks hadn't happened on the backs of the dead and defeated.

So he keeps silent, except for the necessary back-and-forth between pilot and co-pilot as the shuttle leaves the station and heads towards the vast Imperium carrier waiting on the other side of the star system, the very edge of the Imperium's territory. Well, not anymore – with this treaty, the Confederation has ceded the all of the star systems in this sector; the station they'd just left is one of the network of neutral ports along the border that will eventually become part the Imperium. The lawyers and diplomats will work out that timeline in excessive granularity.

They are in transit for nearly an hour before Dezko says anything. "I surprised you remembered me."

"Not remember you? Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, why would you? We weren't exactly friends. More like – " Dezko pauses delicately. 

Arris growls, "Don't say it, Dez."

Dezko, naturally, ignores the warning. "Fuck buddies. You were gentlemanly enough to help me through my heats, but that was the extent of it."

Arris sighs. "I see." 

There's something in Arris' tone of voice that makes Dezko think that he's disappointed Arris. Arris seems angry, but in a defeated sort of way. So he tries to smooth things over. "Not that I didn't appreciate what you did for me. You completely disrupted your life for me twice a semester for each of the five years we were at the Academy."

"It wasn't a hardship, Dez." 

"Still, it couldn't have been easy."

"Are you serious? I got you all to myself for four days and nights without interruption. None of your friends teasing you about the Alpha mooning after your ass or you looking at me like I was carrying some highly communicable virus after your heats were over."

Dezko frowns; he hears Arris, but Arris isn't making any sense. He's making it sound as if he'd wanted Dezko before and after biological imperative took over. "You were – you _are_ the thirteenth child of the Empress. You are Imperial Alpha Prime. You could have had anyone – I still don't understand why you'd ever agreed to help me, except out of your own sense of chivalry. Helping out the foolish Omega who didn't think to make proper 'arrangements' for basic biological functions."

Arris doesn't replay for a few very long moments, but eventually he nods and says, "Yes, that's it. Our prior relationship is based solely on your lack of foresight and my deeply ingrained sense of chivalry. There's nothing else."

"Well, the sex had been _very_ good, too." Dezko says without thinking. It's times like this that he wants to pull his tongue out. 

But Arris doesn't argue. In fact he agrees, "It had been." 

Dezko's about to add, _And it will be again_ , but the shuttle sensors pick up the Imperium carrier's signal, and Arris goes into pilot mode. A fighter group surrounds the shuttle and escorts it to the carrier. Dezko keeps an eye on the propulsion systems as Arris enters the necessary codes that allow the shuttle to pass through the carrier's shields. Soon enough, the shuttle lands and powers down.

"Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"For everything that comes with being a member of the Imperium's ruling family. You do realize that your comfortable life is over." Arris actually sounds a bit regretful about that.

Dezko wouldn't exactly say that his life has been comfortable, but he understands Arris' point. He takes a breath and carefully chooses his words. "No, I don't think I am ready. But it's not like I can change my mind. My assent is on record, our marriage is essential to the treaty. While I have no great love for the Imperium's overreach, I'd rather see it in control rather than watch the Confederation waste another generation of its children in a war it can't win." He sighs and adds, "There's no turning back or standing still, so going forward is our only choice."

"That's the nicer version of what the old bastard, Admiral Gentrav, used to say in those unbeatable battle sims – 'you can't retreat, you can't hold your ground, so move your ass forward and do some damage'. Words to live by." Arris grins and Dezko can't help but smile back.

"Yeah." He'd forgotten where he'd first heard that expression. It had been in his very first class at the Academy, and Gentrav had thrown all of the students into one of the most impossible sims with just those instructions. It had been the first time he'd met Arris, the first time he'd felt that zing of connection to someone – and of course it had to be with an Imperial Alpha Prime. He still feels it whenever he looks at Arris; it had made for a difficult few weeks at the negotiation table.

The shuttle's door opens and Arris stands, offering Dezko his hand. "Shall we?"

"Why the hell not?" Dezko lets out a completely inappropriate gurgle of laughter and recites the Academy motto, "Ever onward, into the great unknown."

Arris doesn't laugh, but his eye is twinkling.

The oddest surprise of the day is waiting for him in the landing bay. A familiar face atop an unfamiliar uniform. "Captain Beril! This is the last place I expected to find you." Elima Beril had been his executive officer when he'd been promoted to captain. They'd worked together for two years, until she'd been given a ship of her own. The last Dezko had heard was that her ship had been disabled in Imperium territory and she had not been returned to the Confederation, but he hadn't been given any further information about her fate.

"Welcome aboard the _Clarion_ , Fleet Admiral. Welcome back, Lord Commander." Beril offers a salute to both arrivals.

Arris returns the salute and says to Dezko, "I leave you in Captain Beril's capable hands. I need to make my report to the powers that be."

Dezko knows that Arris must be talking about his mother, the Empress. But that's of less interest that the presence of his former XO in an Imperium uniform. He nods to Arris who leaves them and turns to Elima. "How did - " Dezko gestures at the uniform, "this happen?"

"You know that I'm Corweltic."

Of course he does, Dezko can't remember how many times Elima had told him stories of her birth world and how deep a connection she'd had with her people and their culture. 

"The Imperium retook the Corwel system about four years ago, just rolled over the Confederation fleet like they were toys. My ship had been damaged in the battle and the whole crew been taken into custody. The new government on Corwel strongly suggested I offer my services to the Imperium. I could see no reason why I shouldn't; Corwel never maintained an independent space fleet and the very thought of being stuck planet-side for the rest of my life had been unbearable."

"And you didn't think of going back to the Confederation?"

Elima frowns. "I did – for a few minutes. But the writing was on the wall – the Confederation couldn't maintain the cost of the war. Had my ship gotten the long overdue repairs she'd needed, we wouldn't have been damaged. Our shields went down because the power cells couldn't hold a charge. Going back to the Confederation would only mean more of the same – decaying ships, untrained personnel, no field support - none of this should be old news."

"It's not. It's why I'm here." Dezko looks around the vast cavern filled with pristine ships and polished, _functioning_ equipment. He can't help but feel a touch of envy.

"Shall I take you to your quarters?"

"Isn't that a little beneath your rank?"

"A captain escorting a Fleet Admiral? I think not."

"I'm not a Fleet Admiral any longer. There is no Confederation fleet – that's in Article One of the peace treaty. The Confederation will disband its military space fleet, blah, blah, blah…"

"But that doesn't negate your rank, or anyone else's. And besides, you are now affianced to the Lord Commander, the leader of the Imperium military. You should be escorted by more than just a mere captain. I'd forgotten how little you care for the pomp and circumstance of military protocol."

"I have not patience with it. But it seems that will be something I need to cultivate. The Imperium does love its flash and glitter." 

"Not as much as you might think. They like getting things done and rewarding personnel who make things happen. That flash and glitter does a lot for morale."

"True."

Dezko let Elima take him to his new quarters, and if they had to detour through the engineering sections so he could get a peek at the carrier's propulsion systems, no one voiced and objection.

"Here we are." They stop in front of a door on an upper-level deck and Elima pins a badge on Dezko's uniform jacket. "This will let you into your quarters and wherever else the Lord Commander has given you access to."

"Thank you." Dezko lets out a small sigh. "I suppose I should let you get back to your duties."

Elima give him a wry grin. "I wish I could say I'm at your beck and call, but my orders were to escort you here and then return to my duty station. But there's no reason why you can't pull rank and ask for me to be reassigned as your aide." 

"I can do that." It finally hits Dezko that he will be marrying the highest ranking officer in the Imperium. Who also happens to be the offspring of the Empress. He can probably ask for quite a lot.

"I will see you soon, then."

Dezko dismisses Elima and enters his new quarters. They are, in a word, spacious. Well-appointed, too. Not all that dissimilar to the very high-end hotel room on Calgus IV, where he'd spent his last heat with a young Alpha possessing impressive stamina and a name Dezko couldn't be bothered to remember.

As Dezko explores, he realizes that the comparison to a hotel room isn't very accurate. These quarters are not reserved for visiting dignitaries - they are already occupied. Elima has brought him to Arris' quarters. 

At first, Dezko is frozen – unsure that he should be invading Arris' privacy, but then he wants to smack himself for ignoring the obvious. Arris had given the orders to bring him here, had given him access. Arris wants him here. So Dezko decides to explore, to see what he can learn about his husband-to-be.

In his long-ago Academy days, Dezko had collected crumbs of information about Arris. What he'd had for lunch, where he'd go during his downtime, the name of the piece of music he'd hum while waiting for the lift. Back then, he'd thought he'd had a clear picture of Arris – a man who preferred order and routine (he'd had the same thing at the commissary every day, depending on the meal), he'd liked Demak opera and Jzyl handsongs (at least he pretended he did because no one really _likes_ Jzyl handsongs except the Y'Jzyl). Arris had better taste in art, thankfully. Once, during their third year, Dezko had run into him in a gallery filled with gorgeous textiles from the seven planets in the Mik system. Dezko had been a frequent visitor at that gallery and had loved a very particular wall hanging made up of vibrantly colored fibers, until one day he'd spotted the "sold" tag on it and then heard Arris talking with the gallery owner about taking delivery of it.

It's the same wall hanging that had tipped Dezko off that these are Arris' quarters and seeing the piece here, rather than in some disused palace room, makes Dezko unaccountably happy. 

There are other touches of personality that Dezko finds comfortably familiar, such as the mug with the nearly worn off Academy logo, a container filled with tea (Dezko takes a sniff and is transported back in time to his Academy days when Arris would arrive at the first class of the day with a steaming mug of this very same tea). Other bits and pieces of Arris' life are on display, but most of those are unfamiliar – the signs of a life filled with experiences and growth. It's been more than twenty years and time has not stood still. 

Dezko has to wonder what Arris would make of his own bits and pieces, which then makes Dezko wonder just what will happen to them. He'd left behind a life on his carrier – nothing compared to what's on display here, but there are things that have meaning and importance to him. Will they get dumped into the trash when the ship – like all Confederation vessels – gets decommissioned? Maybe he can have Elima check on it.

It finally hits him, really, truly hits him, that his life is over. He's homeless, except for Arris' pleasure. He's stateless, too; the station where he'd been born and raised had been one of the first to go to the Imperium when the war started. Not that he'd worried about that; he'd always considered himself loyal to the Confederation and had little emotional tie to his birth world, unlike Elima.

Dezko sits and buries his face in his hands. He is overwhelmed by _everything_.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Arris resists the temptation to summon Captain Beril to his ready room and grill her on her interactions with Dezko. It wouldn't be out of line, but it would be too revealing. For twenty-three years, he's been waiting for this, for the chance to finally claim and bond with his chosen Omega. 

His siblings have never passed up the chance to let him know how crazy he is – to pin his hopes on someone he hasn't seen in so long. They've frequently expressed their gravest doubts about the suitability of a Confederation officer as a life mate, as the bearer of the future heirs to the Imperium throne.

In response to all of those carefully couched concerns, Arris had reminded his sibs that Dezko is the highest ranking officer in the Confederation space fleet, an honor he achieved solely through his skill and his experience. He'd has no wealthy and powerful backers to ease his rise through the ranks; Dezko is the antithesis of the privileged Imperium officer class. Or the political class. Which are often interchangeable. 

Although Dezko's brothers and sisters had remained skeptical, his sire, the Empress, had given his plans her full support. Which isn't to say that she hadn't expressed some irritation at the length of time it had taken to bring Dezko to heel. His sire had been in favor of simply overrunning the Confederation once and for all, using the Imperium's superior military and well-funded diplomatic corps to dismantle the opposition. Arris had argued against that, preferring to slowly nibble away at the Confederation's allied systems, taking them back with minimal military action. 

His plan had worked and the Imperium High Council, packed with his sire's cronies, had proclaimed him a military genius. Arris is certainly not going to tell them that he had been desperate to avoid a pitched battle, one that would put Dezko's life in danger. Some of those couldn't be avoided, but his fleet had standing orders never to engage with any ship under Dezko's command.

Seeing Dezko for the first time in so many years had been something of a shock. Arris had seeing pictures of Dezko - he'd had spies aboard every ship Dezko had served on, and had known that time had treated him well. In Arris' mind, Dezko was still the same young Omega, tall and lean but not yet grown into his strength, but the reality of Dezko Corrick twenty-three years on is that of a man of power and grace, fierce intelligence and good humor. He'd been a wise asset at the negotiation table, and the only time he'd stumbled had been when Arris demanded him in marriage as the final and non-negotiable concession by the Confederation. 

Arris will always treasure that moment, the shocked expression on Dezko's face that couldn't quite hide the joy that flared in those sharp eyes when the lead Imperium delegate made the demand. Dezko's reaction made the long, deep game that Arris had been playing worth the time and effort and cost. 

The ping of an incoming communication captures Arris' attention, the logo on the screen doubly so. It's from Her Imperial Highness, Cerahjon Gyreth the First, herself.

"Greetings, My Liege."

_"Cut the formal crap, Arris. You know it pisses me off."_

"My apologies, sire."

_"You can't call me 'mother', like your siblings do?"_

"Technically, you are my father, since you're an Alpha. Your seed fertilized my carrier's eggs." 

_"Your 'carrier' – " The Empress makes those annoying finger quotes around the word, "was an artificial womb. Your egg donor …"_ She shakes her head. _"You, of all my children, can wind me up the fastest. How the hell do you manage to do that?"_

Arris just grins. They both know the reason why he can push her buttons so easily, the way none of her other children can. Arris is Imperial Alpha Prime, and the only one of her children to carry that genetic designation. "What do you want, _mother_."

_"That's better. What I want is grandchildren from you. Lovely Imperial Alpha Prime babies and lots of them. When is that going to happen?"_

"Even with a crèche, babies take at least nine months. Can't speed up the cooking process."

_"My staff – "_

"You mean, your spies."

The Empress ignores him. _"My staff has told me that Dezko Corrick is on board and in your quarters. Why aren't you there, with him?"_

"I'm giving him a chance to adjust. I'm not an animal. And you do know that Dezko needs to go into heat first before babies can be made."

The Empress glowers at him. _"Stop being so pedantic. If you finish the bond, it will trigger Dezko's next heat."_

"I would prefer to be married before that, which won't happen for another few weeks, at the earliest. The treaty needs – "

_"Fuck the treaty, Arris. Actually no, go fuck Dezko."_

Arris rolls his eyes, fed up with his sire's single minded attempts to get him breed. "I'm ending this transmission, my liege. It's unproductive."

Before the Empress can come back with an annoying rejoinder, Arris terminates the connection.

Then he realizes that his sire has a point. Why has he closeted himself in his Ready Room when he finally has the one person he's reorganized the political and military landscape of a galaxy for in his quarters? He lets the duty shift know that he's heading out and will only be available in an emergency.

Arris has a speech all prepared when he reaches the quarters level, but he's forgotten it by the time he gets to his door. His hands are sweating, he feels like he's two breaths from puking, and with the few brain cells that remain detached and calm, Arris remembers the moments before his first battle as a command officer. The nerves, the anticipation, the fear that he'd mess up and lives would be lost. He might be Imperial Alpha Prime, but he's still human, with all the messy emotions that entails.

He'd succeeded that day, taking the sector with minimal loss of life to either side. There's no reason to think he'll screw this up.

Arris enters his quarters and Dezko is nowhere in sight. For a heartbeat, Arris panics, wondering if Dezko has made a run for it. But he hears the sound of running water coming from the bathing suite and smiles. Dez had always been a fiend when it came to bathing - spending hours in a bathtub while waiting for his heat to crest. Arris hadn't minded, even if he felt like he'd needed to grow a set of gills. Dez' love of water had always been a bit of a puzzlement. Like Arris, Dez had been crèche-born, and raised on a station, not planet-side, where bathing in water would have been a rare luxury.

Maybe that had been why he'd enjoyed bathing so much at the Academy, which is based on a planet covered by oceans and gifted with frequent rain. Water had not been the precious commodity it is on a space station or an older starship.

Arris doesn't have any compunction about invading Dez' privacy and goes to join him in the bathing suite. From the door, he watches his intended enjoy the shower. Physics being physics, the transparent walls have fogged up, which is both annoying and titillating. Arris undoes his uniform jacket and enjoys the view of Dez's body caressed by hot water and steam. That ass is even more perfect now than when they'd been cadets…

Dez finally turns to face him and jumps, turning the water off and shoving the door open. "What the fuck, Arris! Not a good idea to kill me before the wedding ceremony."

"Sorry, just couldn't resist watching you. You still love water." He offers Dez a warm towel, which Dez uses to wipe off the water and then tosses aside. "And you still have no issues with nudity."

Dez looks down at himself. "No, I guess not. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not in the least. If you weren't a valuable member of my former opponent's military, I'd keep you naked and in bed, lubed up and ready to service my needs."

Dez, to Arris' delight, blushes from his groin to his eyebrows and his cock twitches, clearly intrigued at the idea. Dez grabs the towel and wraps it around his waist, stalking out of the bathing suite in high dudgeon. Arris chuckles and follows, shucking his uniform tunic.

Dez is looking around the bedroom, clearly frustrated. "Do you have any idea when I can expect my kit to arrive? Going to need some clothes. Unless you were serious about keeping me naked and chained to a bed."

"Would you like me to be?" Arris drags his under-tunic out of his trousers.

"I – " Dez' response is lost in a squeak when Arris pulls his under-tunic over his head. 

"What big eyes you have, Dez. Do you like what you see?" Arris has always been proud of his body, and has worked hard to keep it. The _Clarion_ is huge, the size of a small moon, and he often will run the decks during off-shift hours.

Dez nods, his eyes wide. "You look good, Arris. Really good."

"You know, that's the first time you've used my given name since the negotiations began. You've either called me 'Lord Commander' – "

"That's your title."

"Or nothing at all. I've always like the sound of my name on your lips."

Dez just blinks at him and Arris grins. "I've always liked your lips. So soft and sweet. Are they still soft and sweet?" 

"You can taste them and find you."

Arris steps in and wraps an arm around Dez' waist, pulling him close, settling him between his thighs. "I think you want this as much as I do." He leans in and murmurs against Dez' cheek, "I think you've always regretted not forming the bond. We could have done that so easily."

He can feel Dez panting, soft puffs of warm breath against his neck, almost too close to Arris' bonding gland. "We should have, and I would have kept you close, watched you shine."

Dez lets out a little sob that goes right to Arris' cock. "Do you want this now, Dez? The marriage ceremony is just political theatre, a way for everyone to save face. The bonding between us is what matters."

"Not yet, Arris – not ready for it yet. I'm sorry – it's just everything is happening too fast."

Arris lets go of Dez with regret. "It's all right, there's no reason to rush. You're here with me, you're not going anywhere. We can take our time."

Dez stares at him, eyes wide; he looks far too young, too much like the cadet Arris had enjoyed so much and that tests Arris' control. He sucks in a deep breath and that's a mistake – Dez' pheromones fill his lungs. And it's not just that, it's the smell of fresh, clean Omega - _his_ Omega, the one he's wanted for far too long.

"I think I better step out. There's a replicator and you can order up what you need. I'll make sure that your personal goods as brought here – unless you'd prefer your own private quarters."

Dez stares at him. "You'd let me have my own quarters?"

Arris can hear the Empress screaming at him, but Dez' happiness is paramount. "If that's what you need, what you want."

Dez closes his eyes and whispers, "Thank you."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dez can't quite believe Arris' offer and more than that, he can't quite believe how desperately he wants to stay with Arris, here in these quarters. So he makes light of everything, "Since I can't imagine any other set of rooms having such a magnificent bathing suite, I think I'll stay here. That bed looks very comfortable, too."

Arris smiles and Dez almost forgets that they have been on opposite sides of a war for the last twenty years. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." It takes all of Dez' self-control not to drop his towel, grab Arris by his uniform trousers and drag him into the bedroom.

Arris lets out a heartfelt sigh. "Thank you."

"No, thank you for giving me a choice."

"Just so you know, my sire would have screamed blood murder at me if you'd taken me up on the offer of separate quarters. She desperately wants grandchildren."

Dez is puzzled. "Doesn't she have many already? You're the thirteen child, surely your siblings have reproduced already?"

"They have, many times over, but none of them have the genetic golden ticket."

Dez is confused by that. "The genetic golden ticket? What do you mean?"

"I am Cerahjon's only Imperial Alpha Prime child."

Dez' confusion grows. "I thought Imperial Alpha Prime means you're in the direct lineage of the Imperial house, and an Alpha Prime."

Arris shakes his head. "No, the 'Imperial' is a designation for a specific genetic marker - Alpha Prime, but 'extra'. Only Imperial Alpha Primes can take the throne."

Dez blinks. "So that means - "

Arris nods.

"Shit buggering fuck. You're going to be Emperor one day."

"Not for a very long time, but yes. Some day, very far into the future, my sire will either step down or pass on and I will take the throne."

"What about your siblings? Are they all right with you being the heir?" Dez remembers his Imperium history, generations of siblings fighting over the throne. The Confederation had been formed in response to the last internecine conflict.

"You'd think there would be a problem, but the Imperium is a body politic based on laws, and the law is very clear. My siblings understand this, and they will support me when the time comes." 

There's something in Arris' tone that makes the hair stand up on the back of Dez' neck. "I'm not going to ask, 'or what' because I don't think I want to know what will happen to anyone who doesn't fall into line."

Arris ignores that, and asks, "You do realize what this means for you, Dez."

"For me?"

"Yes. You will be my consort. The Omega to my Alpha."

It finally hits him. "I'm to be your consort. Consort to the Emperor?"

Arris nods.

"One of several?" Dez doesn't know if he'd be happy about that. He finds himself queasy at the thought to sharing Arris.

"No, my only consort. The Emperor does not bond with multiple Omegas or take more than one spouse."

Beyond the immediate sense of satisfaction, knowing that Arris will be his and only his, Dez is confused. The Empress had thirteen children from thirteen different carriers.

"I know what your thinking. My sire never made a matebond with any of her children's carriers. She has no consort. Once I make the matebond with you, you will have all of my fertility. My seed will not produce offspring with another Omega. That is part of what it means to be Imperial Alpha Prime."

"I did not know that," Dez says, his voice faint. "What is I don't - "

"You will. Imperium reproductive technology will ensure that. Our children will be creche-born. I would't subject you to the unpleasantness of carrying."

"Even if I wanted to?"

Arris seems torn. "I would rather not risk your health, but it's not as if male Omegas don't carry offspring to term all the time. It's just that no one in the Imperial family has since the technology had been invented."

Dez nods. "I guess I just like having options. I'm creche born myself."

"Were you testing me?" 

Dez shrugs, "Maybe. On one hand, you demand the Confederation give me to you as your spouse. You have Elima bring me to your quarters, and then you tell me I can move into my own if I want. It's all very confusing, Arris."

"I guess I'd like you to think kindly of me, even though I've taken you away from a life you've loved, a career you'd excelled at. I want you to be happy with me, and not just in spite of the circumstances."

Arris is truly sincere, Dez realizes. He wants this, it's not just political expediency. Arris truly wants him. "Tell me about the wall-hanging. Why did you buy it?"

Arris steps back and reaches for his under-tunic; Dez is a little disappointed to see that magnificent chest covered up. 

"Why do you want to know?"

"I had been very fond of it, I used to go to that gallery and stare at it for hours. Then you bought it. I had been disappointed, but I admired your taste. And now it's here, hanging in your quarters, as if it has meaning for you."

Arris' smile is a touch sour and self-deprecating. "I bought it because you seemed to love it. I've had it hanging in my quarters for years. It reminds me of you - bright and lovely and filled with potential."

Dez doesn't know what to think about that. "Really? You thought that about me all of those years ago?"

"I told you, Dez, you have always meant something to me. More than a fuck buddy. More than a classmate. More than a friend. I had wanted to tell you that - I wanted … " Arris shakes his head and looks away.

It hits Dez, hits him hard, that Arris is utterly sincere. That his incredible declaration on the shuttle a few hours ago hadn't been just an attempt to smooth over a difficult situation. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not believing - before. For thinking that you didn't care. For looking and not seeing."

Arris nods, but the gesture is terse. "Apology accepted." He steps further away. "I'll let you get some clothing made. Your measurements have already been programmed into the replicator. Just ask for what you need. I'll check with Captain Beril about your kit."

Before Dez can say anything else, Arris grabs his uniform tunic and departs, leaving Dez standing there, mostly naked and utterly confused.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

In the corridor, Arris struggles into his uniform tunic and takes a deep breath. The air is clean and dry and mercifully free of Dez' pheromones. As Arris heads back to the command bridge, he berates himself for thinking that this would be easy, that he could simply charm Dez into bed, into a quick bonding.

He should have remembered that Dez isn't easy or susceptible to charm. Dez is _Dez_ , difficult and brilliant and too inclined to question everything. 

Back in his Ready Room, Arris sends an inquiry to Captain Beril about Dez' kit, and then contacts the quartermaster about setting up private quarters for Dez, on the same deck as his own rooms. No one will be evicted, those quarters are reserved for the highest ranking members of the Imperium's government - the Empress, her ruling council, diplomats. 

Arris knows he's punishing himself, but he can't help but feel he needs to reset this relationship and gives Dez some control. They will keep to separate quarters until Cerahjon arrives and blesses their union. 

He wants to be fair, give Dez all possible choices, but it's so damn difficult to deny himself what he's wanted for more than twenty years.

At least Dez is here on the _Clarion_ , and he's safe. He's adjusting to the new reality and didn't quite have the meltdown that Arris expected when he'd told Dez that he'll be his consort and that one of their children will become Emperor or Empress in time. 

Or maybe Dez is just in shock with all of the changes.

 _"Lord Commander, my apologies for interrupting you."_ It's Admiral Kennick, who is the commanding officer for _The Clarion_. 

"What's the problem, Kennick?"

_"The Radiant and her escort group have appeared on the far edge of the system, sir."_

"The _Radiant?_ Are you sure?" That's the Empress' carrier. "How is that that we're only picking up her transponder signal now?"

_"I'd asked Admiral Bond that question and she said that they'd had orders to stay within the shadow of the system's outer gas giant for the last standard day."_

"Shit." That's an old-school maneuver.

_"Sir?"_

"My apologies for the profanity, Kennick, but why haven't you had patrols monitoring that sector of the system? You had to have realized that the gas giant could be a strategic weakness."

Admiral Kennick doesn't answer, but he drops his eyes from the monitor. _"I will provide a complete report for this lapse, sir."_

"Yes, you will. But in the interim, we will be having guests in very short order. Please advise the command crew that they will need full dress uniforms and all off-duty shift need to be on standby for Her Imperial Majesty's visit. I trust you know the rest of the drill."

_"Yes, sir."_

"Then make it happen." Arris closes the connection. He's annoyed, and not just at Kennick. Cerahjon's been in range for at least a day, waiting to swoop in at the most unexpected moment. Which means she's going to bless the union in very short order.

Arris blows through all of the swearwords he knows and repeats the list three times before he's calmed down. So much for giving Dezko time to adjust, the freedom to make his own choices. All of Arris' careful plans are now in disarray. He sends a note to the quartermaster to cancel Dez' move into his own quarters and to make sure the Imperial Suite is ready for the Empress' imminent arrival.

Diving deep into the details has always been a refuge for Arris, planning strategy moment by moment has stood him well in battle and soothes his soul in less fraught moments. He checks the replicator logs and sees that Dez had requested only basic attire. That won't do and Arris programs the production of a full dress uniform with the appropriate fruit salad for Dez' rank and military honors - in Imperium form and color, which may well annoy the snot out of Dez, but the Confederation Fleet no longer exists and Arris isn't going to risk angering Cerahjon over something so petty.

He takes care of dozens of other details that underpin his sire's visit, not trusting Kennick to appreciate the fine details of the event. It's also his wedding and that's a whole other universe of details to see to that will ensure that the treaty is fully complied with.

Cerahjon will bless their union, he and Dez will spend the next week in their quarters, for the bond and Dez' bond-triggered heat. After that, they will need to return to the Gyreth home world, for the very public marriage ceremony attended by dignitaries from every system in the Imperium and beyond.

But in truth, the only step that matters is establishing the biological life bond between him and Dezko; everything that comes before and after is political theater, and therefore irrelevant.

He probably should go back to Dez and explain what's going on. One step forward, two steps back.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dezko really isn't quite sure what has just happened. He's practically naked, Arris is in the process of getting naked, there's a bed just a few meters away and suddenly, Arris is gone.

He's not sure if it's something he's said, something he's done, but he feels like a damn fool. He doesn't bother with clothes and flop down on the bed, hoping to get some rest. But that is a futile endeavor – the bed is filled with Arris Alpha Prime - _Imperial_ Alpha Prime scent, making any kind of rest impossible. The conversation he'd just had with Arris is on automatic replay and he goes to look at that tapestry again. It's still as beautiful as it had been when he'd first seen it, twenty three years ago. And Arris had bought it because he knew that Dez had loved it. What had Arris said? _"Bright and lovely and filled with potential."_

Dez feels himself blushing at the ridiculous compliment – and awed at the sentiment. He'd always believed that Arris had purchased the art as an investment, as a statement of wealth and good taste; the piece had cost almost as much as a small star cruiser. Things begin to make sense. An endless war with a strangely low casualty count. The Imperium delegation led not by a professional diplomat, but by a career warrior. A peace treaty with an unusually personal set of conditions. 

Something hard knots up in his chest as he remembers moments from their time at the Academy. Arris smiling at him from across the classroom, offering - all too casually - to help him through his heats so he doesn't have to go through the embarrassment of getting a professional from the registry. Arris taking perfect care of him, before, during and after his heats, bringing him only the best food, bathing him with soft cloths and oils that don't trigger his unbearably heightened senses, watching him as he'd slept. And always making sure that he was pleased and satisfied.

Looking back, it's now so clear that Arris had wanted him, had wanted something more. But he'd been too stupid, too blind to see it.

Naked, the towel abandoned on the bed, Dez stares at that stupid tapestry and curses.

Of course, at that most embarrassing moment, the door opens and it's Arris. He has a tablet in his hands and doesn't seem to realize that Dez is standing there, still without any clothes. At least until Dez clears his throat and asks, "Did you forget something?"

Arris looks up and sees Dez. "You're naked. Still."

"Um, yeah. Thought I'd take a nap. It didn't work. So - I - uh …" Dez trails off, feeling like a first year cadet, not a seasoned military officer. "Sorry."

Arris grins and doesn't keep his eyes on Dez' face. "Nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. And no, I didn't forget anything. Plans have changed."

"What plans?"

"Wedding plans. Or rather, pre-wedding plans where we are supposed to head back to the Gyreth home world and as the Empress to bless our union. A long, relatively slow journey where I had been planning to woo you."

"Woo me?"

"Yes, entice you into a better frame of mind about our marriage. There were to be daily courting gifts - the ones that every Omega should receive from a prospective mate. Plus gifts that would convince you that you would be happy in a life as an officer of the Imperium Fleet. Plus, a lot of really spectacular sex."

Dez feels like he's stepped into another universe. He doesn't particularly care about courting gifts, and he'd resigned himself to retirement. But he's definitely annoyed that he's not going to get some really spectacular sex. "What happened?"

"Her Imperial Majesty has been hovering behind the gas giant at the outer edge of this system, using the planet to hide her presence. She has decided that she's going to come to us, rather than let us waste time and go to her. She'll be here in a few hours to bless our union."

"Does that mean we can't have that really spectacular sex? Because of everything you just mentioned, that's the only thing that interests me."

Arris blinks, and then laughs. "You don't want my courting gifts?"

"I'll take the tapestry and your extremely fine body in a bed. Those are the only courting gifts I'm interested in."

Arris gets absolutely serious. "The tapestry and my body are yours, Dez. They've always been yours."

Dez nods, finally understanding everything. "Then let the Empress come and bless the union of her son and his chosen and most willing mate. And then she can go back to her ship and you can fuck me until neither of us can stand without assistance." 

Dez licks his lips, nervous because the next thing he's going to say is very important. "And maybe during the spectacular sex, you'll bite me and initiate the mate-bond."

To Dez' shock, Arris shakes his head. "No, it won't happen like that. I've taken too much from you, and I'm putting a tremendous burden on your shoulders, strong as they are. You need to initiate the mate-bond with me when you are ready, and only after that, will I complete the binding with you."

Dez hears everything that Arris isn't saying - that he's prepared to wait forever, that he'll defer his needs until Dez is ready. But the thing is, Dez is ready now. He goes to Arris and pulls open his uniform tunic, dragging it down his strong arms and letting it fall to the floor. The under-tunic follows, and Dez starts pulling at the placket of Arris' trousers.

"Dez?"

"Not waiting, Arris. Sick and tired of waiting. Want to mate-bond with you now. Not waiting for her Imperial Majesty to grace us with her presence. Going to bite you as soon as I can get you naked."

"You're sure?"

"I have never been more sure of anything. I wouldn't undo the last twenty-three years, but I don't want to waste another moment."

"Then who am I to deny you want you want." Arris pushes Dez' hands away and undoes his trousers. 

Dez watches Arris with undeniable hunger as skin is revealed. He's also a tad jealous of Arris' grace, how he's able to remove his footwear without looking like a clumsy fool - something Dez has never managed. But none of that matters when Arris grabs his hand, picks him up and carries him into the bedroom. 

"Are you crazy? You'll hurt yourself. Can't have spectacular sex if you've thrown your back out."

Arris dumps him on the bed. "Shut up, Dez. You're still scrawny."

"And you're still built like a god."

"Then why are you worrying about my back?"

"Dunno, because we're not those young cadets anymore?"

Arris wraps his arms around Dez and rolls them over, so Dez is on top, straddling Arris' thighs. "No, we're smarter, wiser, stronger than those foolish young men. You know what to ask for and I'm more than happy to give you everything you need."

Dez is almost overcome with emotion. "Is this love?"

Arris' smile is soft, his eyes luminous. His hand cups Dez' head and brings him in close for a kiss. He murmurs against Dez' lips, "I'm pretty sure it is."

Dez kisses Arris and savors the gorgeous taste of the Alpha he's never forgotten. He gorges himself on Arris, on those deliciously familiar lips and tongue and when he's feasted enough, he enjoys the hard strength of Arris' jaw, the sweet spot were ear meets cheek and where cheek becomes neck. He's close to the mating gland and pulls back, locking eyes with the Alpha he's about to bond to for the rest of his life.

Dez asks, his voice barely a whisper, "Are you certain you want this now?"

"I am."

Dez takes a breath, the air is a mind-clouding if their mixed pheromones, and bites down. Arris groans and Dez feels a rush of come splashing onto his belly. Arris flips them over again and doesn't say a word as he reciprocates the mate-bite.

The pain is … indescribable. Heat floods his body – not warmth, but the pheromones and hormones that trigger the biological urge to mate. But it's not the same as the heat that hits him four times a year, where any random Alpha would do. This imperative is directly solely at Arris, the need for Arris to fuck him, to mate him, to impregnate him. The last thought is shocking, but not shocking enough to send him running from Arris.

"Want you in me, now. Now, Arris." Is that his voice? Not so much needy as commanding. Dez is ready to pin Arris down, he'll tie him to the bed if he has to and ride his mate until he drains Arris dry, until his mate is spent and limp and too exhausted to even fuck him with a fake dick.

But at the moment, he doesn't have to mount Arris to get what he wants. Arris flips him over and give his ass a light, stinging slap. "Going to make you howl, mate. You're going to scream for me until you don't have a voice left. This whole ship is going to hear you. They are going to know you're mine and only mine." Arris growls, and the harsh and possessive words send a powerful bolt of lust through Dez' already raging body.

Dez is on his knees, presenting to Arris and he can feel the slick rolling down his thighs. He's never gone into heat this quickly, but then, he's never given or taken a mate-bond before. He tilts his ass up, pressing his torso onto the mattress and burying his face into the pillow. Arris' scent envelopes him and he feels as if he'll never breathe anything but this again. But then, why would he want to? Arris is _his_.

Arris enters Dez in one powerful thrust, and the feeling is one of perfect fullness, a rightness that he's rarely felt during the frenzied couplings of his heats, or the occasional sexual encounters he's had when biology hasn't been driven him.

 _So this is what it means to be mate-bonded._ Dez likes it; he likes it a lot. And as Arris pump into his body, Dez discovered something interesting – he can actually think. He isn't a raging mass of hormones and lust. His mind is his own, he still wants and needs and he'll be a mess if Arris leaves him, but he feels in control. That is something that's never happened before – his heats have always been marked by an utter lack of control.

"Are you all right?" 

"I'm perfect." Arris is draped over Dez' back and Dez' skin feels electric. Each molecule of contact is a point of utter joy. 

Arris buries his face in Dez' neck and whispers, "Don't ever let me go."

"I'm keeping you forever, Arris. You're mine. You've always been mine." Turnabout is definitely fair play, and Arris seems to love Dez' possessiveness, because his hands tighten on Dez' hips and his thrusts become sharper, and deeper.

There's no more talking, no more provocation, as Dez clamps down on Arris as Arris knots him. They'll stay like this for a while and start all over again.

Dez doesn't mind that at all.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


	3. And Slightly Into the Future

"Majesty, you Honor us with Your Most Exalted Presence." 

"Admiral Kennick." Cerahjon Gyreth, Empress of the Gyreth Imperium stares down at the wormy little man who commands the _Clarion_. She can hear the bizarre capitalization in the way he addresses her. It doesn't help that she towers over Kennick and is treated with a most unpleasant view of his balding pate as Kennick bows his head in obeisance.

Cerahjhon looks around the assembled delegation. "Where is the Lord Commander and the Fleet Admiral? Why are they not here?"

Kennick gapes, his mouth opening and closing and finally turns to his Executive Officer and hisses, "Go, go – find the Lord Commander, tell him his mother has arrived."

Cerahjon rolls her eyes and steps past the moron to address the ExO. "You don't actually have to search the ship, I trust."

The young Alpha nods respectfully, "No, Ma'am. I can locate him with this." She pulls out a small tablet from her belt. "The Lord Commander is in his quarters. Perhaps he did not get the message of your imminent arrival?"

"Perhaps. Will you escort me there?"

"It would be my honor, Ma'am."

Her guards fall in behind her as the ExO takes her to a lift. "What is your name, Captain?"

"Beril, Ma'am. Elima Beril."

"That is a Corwellian name, is it not?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Cerahjon likes that this young captain doesn't lower her eyes and behave like a fawning toady. "What is your opinion of Admiral Kennick?"

Captain Beril gives her a startled look. "He is my commanding officer, Ma'am. It would not be fitting to comment in any way that reflects poorly on his leadership."

"That is a good answer, Captain. And the one I had hoped you'd give. Although we both know that Kennick is …" Cerahjon sighs, "not quite suited for the position he's holding."

Captain Beril doesn't comment as the lift comes to a halt. The door opens and Cerahjon waits for her guard to step out and confirm that there is no threat present. She gestures for Captain Beril to lead the way to Arris' quarters and just a few steps down the corridor, she realizes just why her son had not be present at her arrival. 

Cerahjon stops and takes a deep breath. "Ah, yes. It seems my son and his affianced mate have decided to anticipate my blessing." 

Captain Beril takes a breath and pulls out a masker from her belt. "Apparently, Ma'am."

Cerahjon is more pleased than annoyed. After all, she's been trying to get her very stubborn heir to do just this for decades. But it would have been nice if he'd waited just one more day. 

As they head back to the lift, Cerahjon asks Captain Beril, "Are there any quarters on the _Clarion_ that will be suitable for a nursery?"

_FIN_


End file.
